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Behold this headshot of picket line-crossing Times' columnist Nicole Brodeur, which runs with her every scribble. Unlike other headshots, this one has an air of fashion to it — a far cry from the sit and pose stylings of most daily newspaper columnists. Here, it actually looks like Brodeur has just done something. But just what has 'ol Nic just done? Has she just put away the groceries? Just finished mowing the lawn? Just watched Shakes the Clown's DVD extras? Just gotten home from a paintballing excursion with the Blethen clan? Just finished banging out a column about herself? Just been fucked? Just what? Pray tell.
Topics: Aquatic Fashion

There are a few movies that I consider to be incredibly well-executed and moving that I've sworn I'll never watch again. Schindler's List is one (loved it, but way too emotionally taxing for a quiet night at home), Requiem for a Dream ("ass-to-ass"—never again, but dazzling the first time) is another, and Deliverance is the grandaddy of them all. Or at least it was until I learned that freelance SW photog 'Lil Scoop hadn't seen it, so I sweated out a repeat screening at the Pigeon Ridge treehouse last night.
Suffice it to say, the film doesn't lose any of its disturbing power with time. But I've got to ask: What's with the ultra-modern wetsuit vest Burt Reynolds is sporting? Reynolds is supposed to be the biggest hayseed of his four-man suburban Atlanta crew, and yet he looks like a 1970's land-based version of Aquaman. Did Reynolds think he was being cast as a superhero in this film, and thus had the wetsuit vest built into his contract as a wardrobe requirement? Somebody please set me straight here.
Topics: Aquatic Fashion
